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I/I  E>  R.AR.Y 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 
OF    ILLINOIS 


811 


IIUWS  «ISf BBCftL  SOHET 


# 


^andom  Shots. 


NELSON  GOODRICH  HUMPHREY, 

LE  ROY,  ILLINOIS. 


BLOOMINGTON.  ILL.: 

PRESS  AND  BlNDEkY  OF  TUK   rANTAGUAI'H  EsTABLlSHMKXT. 
1884. 


COPYRIGHTED,  1884,  BY 

NELSON  GOODRICH  HUMPHREY, 

LEROY,  ILLINOIS. 


'» 


CONTENTS. 

Page. 

«prinsr,             .                    .                    .                    .                    .  .5 

Success,                      •                   ....  7 

-Reflections,     .                    .                     .                     .  .9 

Random  Shots,          .                    .                     .                    .                    .  \\ 

To  Our  Fallen  Heroes,      .                    .                   .                    .  .13 

The  Phonograph,      .....  14 

iUnseen  Power,                   .                    .                   .                    .  .16 

One  Hour,                  •                   •                   •                    .                   .  17 

Progress,         .                   .                   .                    .                   .  .19 

<5oing  West,              .....  21 

True  Value,    .                    .                    .                   .                   .  .23 

lafe,        .......  24 

Bemembrance,                   .                   .                   .                    .  .26 

Imagination,             .....  27 

The  Heathen,                      .                     .                     .                    .  .28 

The  Old  Dray  Mare,                    .                    .                    .                    .  30 

The  Old  Sugar  Camp,       .                   .                   .                    .  .31 

A  Walk,                      .....  33 

An  Indian  Dreamed,         .                   .                    .                   .  .36 

The  Switzers,            .                   .                   .                   .                   .  37 

A  Cyclone,       .                     .                    .                    .                    .  .39 

Perpetual  Works,     .                                         ...  41 

Alphabet  Rhymes,             .                   .                    .                   .  .43 

Forty-eight  Hours  in  1881,          ....  44 

Motion,             .                     .                    .                    .                     .  .47 

Fault  Finding,           .....  48 

•Growth,            .                    .                     .                    .                    .  .49 

Calculations,              .....  50 

Imitations,      .                     .                    .                    .                    .  .51 

Youth,    ......  53 

Christmas  Cheer,                .                    .                    .                    .  .55 

Thrilling  Adventure,                    ....  56 

A  Midnight  Scene,            .                   .                   .                    .  .57 

Uncle  John,               .....  59 

The  Lighthouse,                .                   .                   .                    .  .61 

Varieties,                    .....  63 

Education,       .                      .                      .                      .  •                   .  .65 

Observations,            .....  68 

Fruitless  Attempt  to  Analyze  Space,                    .                   .  .73 

The  Comet's  Reply  to  the  Atheist,              .                   .  75 


PREFACE. 

There  is  only  one  way  to  make  ideas  invariably  interest- 
ing,— simply  tell  the  truth.  Knowing  that  all  people  are 
liable  to  make  mistakes  gives  me  courage,  although  in 
weakness,  in  presenting  a  few  ideas,  likes  and  dislikes. 
My  titlepage,  "Random  Shots,"  is  a  material  benefit  to  me. 
As  a  rule,  people  in  this  world  pass  much  like  money — 
for  what  they  are  worth  on  the  market.  The  following 
verses,  except  the  last  two  subjects,  were  written  to  please 
myself,  which,  I  believe,  is  the  best  way  to  please  others. 
They  were  written  for  personal  benefit  and  pastime,  as  a 
relaxation  from  the  cares,  duties,  and  responsibilities  of 
every-day  life.  I  feel  confident  that  if  my  readers  enjoy 
the  reading  one-half  as  well  as  I  did  the  composing,  1  shall 
be  perhaps  better  paid  than  I  deserve.  A  friend,  Mr.  A. 
C.  Mayo,  of  Danville,  111.,  urged  me  to  have  them  pub- 
lished, and,  thinking  they  would  certainly  do  no  harm,  I 
consented.  "Fruitless  Attempt  to  Analyze  Space,"  and 
"The  Comet's  Reply  to  an  Atheist"  are  placed  with  my 
collection  as  a  credit  and  compliment  to  H.  EL  Ballard,  a 
Kentucky  gentleman  and  scholar. 

NELSON  G.  HUMPHREY. 
,  ILLINOIS,  1884. 


SPRING. 


SPRING. 

The  farmers  are  taking  chances, 

As  they  did  through  sleet  and  snow 

And  the  heat  of  spring  advances 
To  the  land  where  blizzards  blow. 

And  I  heard  the  cattle  lowing 
On  the  prairie,  stiff  and  cold; 

And  the  rooster,  he  was  crowing, 
But  his  voice  was  harsh  and  old. 

And  I  heard  the  distant  rumbling, 
Sounding  like  an  old  machine; 

'Twas  a  prairie  chicken  grumbling, 
As  the  grass  was  turning  green. 

And  I  saw  the  maidens  raking 
With  their  strong  and  steady  arms, 

As  their  kindred  friends  were  taking 
Oats  to  sow  upon  their  farms. 

And  I  saw  two  wives  together 

Making  soap,  and  their  tongues  did  use, 
Talking  there  about  the  weather, 

And  their  neighbors  did  abuse. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS." 

And  I  saw  the  butcher  driving 

For  the  city's  daily  need, 
Where  the  flocks  and  herds  are  thriving, 

And  return  with  greatest  speed. 

And  I  saw  a  bulk  of  treasure 
In  a  basket — they  were  eggs; 

And  a  portion  went  for  pleasure, 
And  the  balance  go  on  legs. 

But  the  crops  maturing  later, 

Like  the  chickens,  they  must  grow, 

But  the  harvest  will  be  greater 
If  we  only  reap  and  sow. 


'E.VNDOM    SHOTS. 


SUCCESS. 

The  route  to  success  is  open  to  all, 

The  braver  ones  win,  where  tickle  one's  fall ; 

Cause  and  effect  are  ever  the  same, 

Up,  all  my  comrades,  and  work  for  a  name. 

To  reap  a  good  harvest,  sow  in  good  soil; 
To  gain  a  good  conscience,  fear  not  to  toil; 
Pass  the  fault  finding  to  right  or  left  hand, — 
Heads  stored  with  knowledge  are  sure  to  expand. 

To  dwarf  the  spirit  of  a  little  child 
May  leave  it  lonely,  in  some  dreary  wild, 
When  others  more  weak  in  physical  force, 
Stay  close  to  the  track,  not  losing  their  course. 

It  always  has  been,  and  always  will  be 

To  our  advantage,  what  others  can  see, 

That  by  their  failures,  or  by  their  success, 

Our  burdens  through  life  more  lightly  will  press. 

The  actions  of  others  regulate  life,— 
To  prove  a  kind  husband,  obtain  a  kind  wife; 
It  is  blood  and  sense,  and  morals  together, 
That  saves  a  wreck  through  all  kinds  of  weather. 


''RANDOM   SHOTS. 

Wisdom  so  often  ends  in  great  folly,— 
Drunken  with  wine  makes  some  people  jolly; 
Others,  their  eyes  full  of  devils  you  see, 
That  skulk  as  soon  as  over  the  spree. 

The  foolish  of  earth  are  those  who  feel  wise, 

Are  happier  often  laughing  at  lies; 

Deceit  is  a  game  on  all  stages  shown, 

It  plays  its  havoc  on    the   young  and  the  grown. 

The  people  of  ages  far  in  the  past, 
Xo  artist  is  able  their  image  to  grasp; 
But  wild  in  fancy,  some  try  to  explain 
Features  of  Judas,  and  even  of  Cain. 

Into  the  future  another  class  go, 
Features  of  angels  in  Heaven  they  know; 
All  bright  and  shining  o'erspread  with  wings, 
Upon  the  beggars,  and  even  the  kings. 

Diamonds  and  jewels  are  sold  for  their  worth, 
Not  so  with  people  upon  this  broad  earth; 
Quantity  often  handles  the  reins, 
Quality  falters,  but  carries  the  brains. 

To  be  but  a  drone  when  harvest  is  near, 
This  life  is  too  short,  for  halting  and  fear; 
The  longer  the  route,  the  swifter  the  speed, 
The  harder  the  task,  more  nerve  do  we  need. 


See  the  moon  at  night,  dancing  on  the  w 
While  the  son  of  toil  sleeps  in  sweet  repose. 


'RANDOM    SHOTS. 


REFLECTIONS. 

The  dreams  of  childhood,  with  the  facts  of  age, 
Together  mingle  in  my  brain  to-night ; 

They  are  dear  old  friends,  and  they  press  the  page, 
In  simple  measure,  are  reflecting  bright. 

In  the  waving  wheat  is  the  bread  of  life, 
That  will  walk  about  and  reflect  its  use; 

But  if  from  the  still  it  will  harbor  strife, 
That  its  owner  kill  with  its  vile  abuse. 

See  the  moon  at  night,  dancing  on  the  waves. 

While  the  son  of  toil  sleeps  in  sweet  repose, 
Dreaming  he  is  free,  though  he  is  a  slave, 

While  the  falling  dew  openeth  up  the  rose. 

See  the  drops  of  rain  glisten  in  the  light, 

When  the  "bow  of  peace"  greets  our  longing  eyes. 

Soon  the  scene  is  changed, — snow  of  purest  white 
Takes  the  place  of  rain,  and  the  rainbow  dies. 

Once  a  lover  true,  his  sentence  was  to  die 
For  another's  crime,  in  his  grave  was  laid; 

There  a  maiden  wept  for  soul  on  high, 

Tears  "reflected"  bright  on  the  sexton's  spade, 


10  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

Once  a  little  child  dreamed  a  triple  dream; 

Dreaming  that  he  woke  in  the  morning  light, 
Dreamed  he  went  to  sleep,  dreamed  he  dreamed  a 
dream, 

While  his  reason  slept  through  "reflections"  bright. 

If  within  the  eye  objects  do  "reflect," 
Murderers  remain,  who  are  magnified 

By  the  skill  of  man,  all  should  recollect 
Justice  will  be  paid,  though  the  victims  died. 

In  a  mirror  grand,  did  a  beggar  stare 

He  "reflections"  saw.     Once  a  mother's  prize 

As  he  closer  drew,  saw  a  lonely  pair, 

They  were  twins  of  grief,  in  the  mirror  eyesv 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  11 


RANDOM    SHOTS. 

We  have  truly  often  wondered 
Why  some  people  are  so  wise, 

When  the  truth  is  they  have  blundered, 
And  themselves  they  have  surprised. 

Like  the  pig  out  on  the  ocean, 

On  a  sail  ship,  all  alone, 
Was  a  compass  put  in  motion, 

As  he  started  toward  his  home. 

They  tell  us  of  astronomy— 
Of  wonders  through  the  skies, 

In  trade  it  is  economy, 
And  they  manufacture  lies. 

And  in  all  the  undertakings 
That  they  cannot  take  the  lead, 

They  delight  in  giving  rakings 
On  the  ones  they  mostly  need. 

And  to  those  who  have  befriended  them 

In  days  of  greatest  grief, 
Long  ago  their  friendship  ended — 

They  are  to-day  crying  thief. 


12  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

We  notice  in  our  history, 

When  the  rocky  pass  was  found, 

The  Indians  knew  the  mystery, 

Though  they  had  no  volumes  bound. 

From  hill  to  hill  did  telegraph, 
On  drums  their  signals  giving; 

Though  some  to-day  may  jeer  and  laugh, 
'Twas  true  when  they  were  living. 

Their  children  were  to  them  as  dear 
And  wild  as  game  they  captured; 

Across  the  rolling  prairies 

Those  hunters  were  enraptured. 

They  traced  the  paths  of  animals 
Where  purest  springs  were  flowing; 

Some  swear  that  they  were  cannibals 
Because  they  are  so  knowing. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  13 


TO   OUR   FALLEN    HEROES. 

We  think  of  freedom  as  we  meet  to-day 

In  joy  and  sadness,  as  in  other  years; 
We  think  of  comrades  who  have  passed  away, 

Of  the  wreck  of  years,  of  the  flood  of  tears. 

In  the  North  and  South  they  are  laid  to  rest — 

It  is  sad  to  know  that  so  many  fell, 
In  their  blue  or  gray,  for  they  did  their  best; 

And  the  woe  of  homes  none  on  earth  can  tell. 

As  brooks  from  the  hill  unite  as  they  go, 

With  others  more  grand,  though  they  pass  from  sight; 
So  we  think  of  those  that  were  here  below, 

For  they  battled  hard  for  freedom  and  right. 

We  see  the  widows  in  their  silent  grief, 

And  we  think  of  sons  that  they  fondly  reared; 

But  our  sympathy  is  a  poor  relief, 
For  their  loved  and  lost  who  have  disappeared. 

We  see  the  maidens  of  those  years  ago, 

Who  were  promised  brides  at  the  groom's  return; 

But  their  cheeks  are  pale,  and  their  steps  are  slow, 
For  the  flush  of  hope  can  no  longer  burn. 


14  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

The  orphan  children  that  are  left  alone — 

May  the  strong  of  earth  lend  a  listening  ear — 

May  we  think  of  them  as  we  do  our  own, 
For  their  sightless  sires  cannot  shed  a  tear. 

And  may  the  angels  from  the  heavenly  spheres 
Plant  choicest  flowers  where  the  unknown  sleep; 

May  the  Stars  and  Stripes  in  the  coming  years 
Be  our  beacon  light  as  we  climb  the  steep. 


THE    PHONOGRAPH 

Yes,  the  wonderful  instrument 
Appears  to  have'  a  mind; 

On  deeds  of  mercy  can  be  sent 
To  talk,  though  deaf  and  blind. 

Music  preserved  in  minor  strains, 
Perhaps  a  thousand  years; 

Sermons  profound  from  lofty  brains 
Preserved  for  unborn  seers. 

Its  memory  so  very  nice 
Can  speak  just  to  the  rule, 

And  imitate  a  bird  precise, 
Or  bray,  just  like  a  mule. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  15 

To  serenade  at  midnight  hour 

Four  instruments  you  need; 
All  parts  to  sing,  with  mighty  power, — 

Soprano  takes  the  lead. 

Suppose  stringed  instruments  are  used, 

Harsh  discords  fill  the  strains; 
Musicians  then  will  be  abused 

Because  they  lacked  the  brains. 

To  bachelors  who  timid  are, 

Pray  let  your  thoughts  be  heard, 
Prepare  your  speech  and  send  it  far, — - 

You  dare  not  take  the  word. 

For  words,  all  know,  will  beat  the  pen, 

But  self  should  beat  the  phone, 
If  courage  weak  just  send  it  then, 

To  talk  to  her  alone. 

A  quick  reply  she  soon  will  send, 

If  earnest  and  sincere, 
As  you  have  been,  your  heart  will  mend — 

To  you  be  just  as  dear. 


16  ik  RAN  DOM    SHOTS.' 


UNSEEN    POWER. 

Millions  of  worlds,  spread  out  through  realms  of  light. 

Move  on  a  mystery  of  unseen  power; 
Weak  mortals  live  and  wonder  at  the  sight, 

All  vainly  try  to  comprehend  an  hour. 

The  strength  of  rivers,  in  the  hills  unseen, 
The  red  men  of  the  forest  well  did  know 

Would  bear  the  light  canoe  through  valleys  green, 
Along  the  banks  where  unseen  flowers  grow. 

Far  in  a  northern  land  explorers  spied 

A  mammoth  well  preserved  in  ice  and  sleet; 

Extinct  the  unseen  power  that  nobly  died, 
With  frozen  heart,  that  years  before  did  beat. 

The  unrecorded  deed  since  earth  was  new, 
From  genius  minds  in  ancient  arts  now  lost; 

Huge  blocks  of  stone,  in  pyramids  so  true, 
Unknown  to  modern  power  at  any  cost. 

It  is  the  unseen  steam  that  drives  the  car. 

The  unseen  thoughts  that  move  the  strongest  pen, 

The  unassuming  ones  who  have,  by  far, 
The  stronger  hold  upon  the  hearts  of  men. 


Lies  a  valley,  and  a  stream 
Of  never  ceasing  flow. 


' 'RANDOM    SHOTS/'  17 


ONE    HOUR. 

Xear  a  lofty  mountain  scene 

Of  never-fading  snow, 
Lies  a  valley,  and  a  stream 

Of  never  ceasing  flow. 

The  day  was  slowly  dying, — 
Disappearing  in  the  West,— 

The  brant  and  crane  were  flying, 
Their  wFngs  were  needing  rest. 

A  maiden  sat  in  sadness, 

Outside  a  cottage  door; 
The  flowers  bloomed  in  gladness, 

As  they  had  done  before. 

She  saw  the  waving  grasses, 
And  heard  the  plowman  sing, 

While  through  the  mountain  passes. 
Small  birds  were  on  the  wing, — 

From  unending  summer  days 
To  cheer  a  northern  home, 

With  their  free  and  joyous  lays, 
Until  their  young  were  grown. 


18  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

The  mill  had  ceased  its  turning; 
The  stars  were  shining  clear; 

The  maiden's  brain  was  burning- 
She  could  not  shed  a  tear. 

Her  lover  had  departed 

Those  meadows  and  those  streams. 
And  left  her  broken-hearted,— 

She  saw  him  then  in  dreams. 

The  hope  that  she  had  cherished 
Returned  in  joyous  tears; 

His  spirit  had  not  perished 
But  passed  the  "wreck  of  years." 


''  RANDOM    SHOTS."  19 


PROGRESS. 

When  Noah's  Ark  was  sailing  high 
Above  the  mountains,  toward  the  sky, 

All  living  creatures,  with  mankind, 
Tiie  greatest  show  on  earth  combined. 

For  forty  days  the  torrents  poured, 

The  lightning  flashed,  and  thunder  roared, 

Amphibious  creatures  were  not  drowned — 
They  saw  the  sight  and  heard  the  sound. 

As  Darwin  taught,  the  cannibals 
Progressed  from  Noah's  animals, 

Until  they  upright  stood  to  walk, 
And  taught  the  parrots  how  to  talk. 

If  muley  cattle,  once  unknown, 

Like  mules  and  many  things  have  grown, 
Why  be  surprised  if  man  alone 

"Immortal"  is,  from  zone  to  zone. 

He  gazes  up  unending  space 

Is  proven  to  a  wondering  race; 
The  heathen  bows  with  bended  knee, 

The  world's  revolve,  he  cannot  see. 


20  "RANDOM  SHOTS.'' 

The  night  is  made  to  sleep  and  dream, 
But  time  and  sense  should  be  our  theme; 

We  boast  of  modern  skill  and  cost, 
Forget  the  ancient  arts  now  lost. 

The  color  of  the  rainbow's  glow, 

Or  echoes  in  the  years  ago; 
The  roaring  ocean;  shedding  tear, 

To  mortal  life  was  just  as  dear. 

Humanity  at  best  is  weak, 

To-day,  through  telephones  we  speak; 
We  telegraph  o'er  land  and  sea, 

As  God  intended  it  should  be. 

The   "golden  rule,"  for  all  mankind 

Is:   "  Help  the  weak  and  lead  the  blind;" 

Like  Darwin,  all  will  be  surprised 
When  from  the  planet  they  arise. 

The  highest  monument,  sublime. 

Must  crumble  with  the  wreck  of  time; 

The  mysteries  beyond  shall  know, 
Prove  what  we  can  while  here  below. 

If  genius  spirits  wrapped  in  clay 
Of  ancient  heroes  passed  away; 

It  matters  little  where  our  birth, 

Or  when  we  journey  from  the  earth. 


"KANDOM    SHOTS."  21 


GOING  WEST. 

For  a  little  rest  on  a  rainy  time, 
An  Irish  story  I'll  put  in  rhyme; 
'Twas  Patrick  Lynch  who  took  a  notion 
For  a  country  trip  across  the  ocean. 

He  bid  old  Ireland  and  his  friends  good-bye, 
And  tear-drops  slid  from  many  an  eye ; 
And  in  fifteen  days  he  was  '  way  out  West, 
In  America;   for  he  thought  it  best. 

It  is  either  "feast  or  famine  "  with  me, 
Was  the  Irish  thought,  when  he  left  the  sea; 
For  he  oft  had  heard  on  the  prairie  wide, 
Was  the  better  place  for  an  Irish  bride. 

In  Illinois  he  was  satisfied  ; 

And  upon  his  legs  he  took  a  ride, 

For  his  purse  was  weak  tho'  his  legs  were  strong 

And  upon  his  lips  was  an  Irish  song. 

The  night  drew  near  as  the  earth  rolled  'round, 
As  he  neared  a  swamp,  when  he  heard  a  sound 
Of  a  thousand  frogs,  to  his  great  surprise  ; 
And  the  "lightning  bugs"  were  before  his  eyes. 


22  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

It  was  hard  to  think  what  for  him  was  best ; 
It  was  four  long  miles  to  the  town  for  rest; 
But  a  colored  man,  in  a  cunning  way, 
Gave  poor  Pat  a  bed  until  break  of  day. 

Patrick,  very  tired,  did  not  easy  wake, 

And  the  colored  man  in  his  hand  did  take 

Charcoal  pulverized,  and  from  Irish  made 

To  the  darkest  hue,  called  him  "King  of  Spades." 

At  an  early  hour  Patrick  was  in  town, 
Where  the  hotel  clerk  met  him  with  a  frown ; 
"Surely,"  Pat  replied,  "hungry  I  have  grown  ; 
I  am  in  the  West  looking  for  a  home." 

"Far  in  Africa  surely  you  belong;" 
Patrick  quick  replied,  "Truly  you  are  wrong;" 
When  he  took  a  look  in  a  mirror  wide, 
Saying,  "How  is  this  for  an  Irish  bride." 

Then  the  mystery  opened  up  his  mind, 
That  the  colored  man  certainly  was  blind  ; 
"When  he  woke  the  man  a  mistake  was  made, 
It  was  not  meself,  but  the  Jack  of  Spades." 


RANDOM    SHOTS."  23 


TRUE  VALUE. 

LIKES  ON  A  SILVER  COIN  101  YEARS  OLD. 

Iii  the  hills,  beyond  the  ocean, 

At  a  time  to  me  unknown, 
Far  from  light  and  earth's  commotion, 

There  my  pocket  coin  was  sown. 

Foreigners  that  first  did  listen 
To  its  ring,  pronounced  it  just; 

Foreign  eyes  that  saw  it  glisten 
Years  ago,  returned  to  dust. 

Hid  in  pockets,  under  pillows, 

Kings  have  owned  and  beggars  claimed; 
Rocked  upon  the  ocean  billows, 

Thy  identity  retained. 

Crops  have  failed  and  friends  have  faltered, 
True  to  all  thou  hast  been  tried; 

Dirn  thy  face  that  time  hath  altered, 
"Golden  Rule"  by  none  denied. 

For  its  worth  to  other  creatures, 
Well  preserved,  this  coin  shall  rest, 

As  a  saint  whose  peaceful  features 
Indicate  a  spirit  blest. 


'RANDOM    SHOTS. 


LIFE. 

To  be  extreme  with  friend  or  foe, 
Their  inmost  yearnings  we  can  never  know; 
Unless,  beyond,  our  Heavenly  Parent 
Makes  all  our  lives  to  each  transparent. 

Even  balanced  be,  both  in  deed  and  mind, 
Love,  the.  king  of  worlds,  greater  than  mankind. 
Blessings  sown  in  time  from  an  unknown  hand 
May  forever  bloom  in  a  better  land. 

On  earth  have  been  skeptics,  from  creation, 
In  every  clime  of  every  nation; 
From  highest  learning  in  our  greatest  schools, 
To  the  lowest  rank  of  the  lowest  fools. 

As  each  day  brings  a  difference  of  thought, 
When  some  people  gain  what  others  have  sought; 
It  may  have  been  honor,  or  may  have  been  wealth; 
While  some  seek  pleasure,  the  others  seek  health. 

The  finest  features  on  this  broad  earth  found, 
By  laws  of  nature  return  to  the  ground; 
Except  the  mummy,  in  shows  to  be  found, 
Whose  features  will  change  at  Gabriel's  sound,— 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  25 

And  those  sunken  eves,  like  lamps  without  light, 
Upon  that  great  day  more  brilliant  and  bright 
Than  when  in  his  youth  his  parents  could  see 
The  end  of  their  race  was  not  yet  to  be. 

It  may  be,  my  friends,  with  you  and  with  me, 

Such  visions  as  this  our  parents  can  see; 

That  down  in  the  ages  yet  to  be  born 

Their  features  will  glide  like  clouds  in  a  storm, — 

Or  in  the  clear  weather,  upon  some  still  lake, 
The  sun  and  water  their  image  will  take, 
And  soon  pass  away,  as  all  plainly  see 
That  sunrise  and  sunset  never  agree. 

All  eternity  to  this  present  time 
Draws  thoughts  from  a  thinker,  grand  and  sublime, 
That  yonder  in  space  are  worlds  yet  unseen, 
Created  from  thought  by  one  Mighty  King, — 

Whose  eye  comprehends  all  atoms  in  space, 
Not  wrecking  a  world;  each  one  in  its  place 
Revolving   so  still  to  our  mortal  ears, 
His  millions  of  work  by  us  called  the  spheres. 


26  ' '  KANDOM    SHOTS. ' 


REMEMBRANCE, 

When  Smith  was  young  and  I  a  boy, 

'Twas  many  years  ago, 
He  owned  a  stage  for  all  LeRoy — 

The  older  ones  well  know. 

To  Bloomington  the  public  went, 

Their  passage  freely  paid ; 
And  loads  of  grain  were  often  sent 

Before  the  rails  were  laid. 

The  old  state  road  remains  the  same, 

LeRoy  we  love  as  well; 
The  old  school  house  has  changed  its  name,— 

For  years  'twas  a  hotel. 

The  games  we  played  while  there  at  school, — 

Especially  ' '  Blackm  an ;" 
The  boys  and  girls  did  act  the  fool 

As  often  as  we  ran.  , 

A  few  have  passed  to  realms  of  light,— 

The  unseen  angels  came 
And  bore  them  upward  in  their  flight,— 

The  other  ones  remain. 


'RANDOM  SHOTS."  27 


Fathers,  mothers,  their  children  sweet, 

Our  streets  do  daily  tread; 
Old  maids  and  bachelors  we  meet, 

Because  they  never  wed. 

Those  years  ago  on  memory's  wall 
Are  photographed  complete; 

Though  far  away  I  hear  them  call, 
Their  happy  faces  meet. 


IMAGINATION. 

Kimler,  out  East,  was  very  mad, 
Humphrey,  in  town,  was  very  glad — 
That  innocent  he'd  surely  been, 
Though  Kimler  thought  it  was  a  sin. 

How  it  happened,  I'll  quickly  state  : 
His  ledger  page  was  long  and  great ; 
A  balance  long  before  was  made — 
Was  positive  that  Kimler  paid  ; 

And  Kimler  swore,  an  hour  long, 
That  Humphrey  sure  had  done  him  wrong; 
A  reason  claimed,  to  curse  and  swear, 
Wrinkle  his  face,  his  conscience  tear. 


28  ''RANDOM    SHOTS." 

Though  fast  asleep,  seemed  wide  awake, 
As  he  supposed  did  vengeance  take 
Upon  a  friend,  he  thought  a  foe, 
Because  his  reason  did  not  know. 

A  lesson  grand  from  this  we  learn, 
For  waking  hours  where'er  we  turn, 
Realities  are  oft  as  blind 
As  Kimler  seemed  to  me  unkind. 


THE    HEATHEN. 

Near  Africa,  so  far  away, 

The  traders  dwell  on  Bonny  Bay; 
In  hulks  of  vessels  once  so  grand, 

To  shun  the  fever  on  the  land. 

Two  hundred  miles  from  Bonny  coast, 
Of  eating  human  flesh  they  boast ; 

In  heathen  lands  they  deem  it  just- 
In  superstition  put  their  trust. 

Where  living  slaves  are  often  led, 
And  buried  low  with  masters  dead, 

And  in  the  quiet  hours  of  night, 
In  robbing  graves  they  take  delight. 


'"  RANDOM    SIKH'S."  29 

Fierce  pestilence  they  drive  complete, 
By  dragging  victims  through  the  street; 

Then  plunge  them  into  water  cold, 
•  In  that  fair  land  a  custom  old. 

The  darkest  belt  known  on  the  earth, 
Where  twins  are  slain  at  hour  of  birth  ; 

And  mothers,  innocent  as  they, 
Are  either  killed  or  sent  away. 

To  send  them  word  to  make  them  free, 
All  Christian  nations  should  agree; 

And  those  who  take  the  news  to  them 
We  call  the  bravest  of  all  men. 


30  "RANDOM  SHOTS.' 


THE  OLD  DRAY  MARE. 

Twenty-two  years  ago  last  February, 

The  old  dray  mare  appeared 
In  a  meadow,  owned  by  Garee, 

By  him  was  kindly  reared. 

Following  on  through  dust  and  dew, 

Smelling  the  new  mown  hay, 
A  sorrel  colt  that  stronger  grew, 

Watching  the  children  play. 

Through  summer's  heat  and  winter's  cold 
Three  years  of  life  was  spent 

In  happiness;  but  Johnson's  gold 
A  bargain  made — she  went. 

Soon  trouble  came;  her  honest  sire 

Was  placed  beneath  the  sod, 
Her  metal  good,  she  could  not  tire, 

She  had  no  friend,  or  God. 

Around  her  neck  a  collar  wore 
Through  winter's  coldest  night; 

The  marks  of  pain  upon  a  sore 
Until  it  turned  to  white. 


THE   OLD   SUGAR  CAMP. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  31 

The  slaves  for  life  are  changing  hands, 

Are  hauling  beer  and  bread 
In  Illinois  and  other  lands, 

And  will  be  till  they're  dead. 

Humanity  is  much  the  same, 

So  many  try  to  shirk — 
Allow  the  old,  the  weak,  the  lame, 

To  do  their  honest  work. 


THE   OLD    SUGAR   CAMP. 

In  western  New  York,  thirty  years  ago, 
When  a  youth  at  home  in  the  sugar  camp, 

We  drove  the  sled  through  the  drifted  snow, 
Though  the  wind  was  chill  and  the  roads  were  damp. 

Where  the  maple  trees,  waiting  long  for  spring, 
On  them  were  the  scars  of  the  year  before, 

On  the  shining  pails  birds  were  on  the  wing; 
When  the  auger  turned,  sap  began  to  pour. 

As  the  spring  advanced,   nature  seemed  at  best, 
And  the  sweets  below  with  the  sun  awoke ; 

But  the  Sabbath  day  only  was  for  rest, 

And  the  birds  and  bees  there  the  silence  broke. 


32  "RANDOM    SHOTS.'' 

Monday  morning  cune,  and  tlie  work  began, 
Saving  at  the  cunp  -sap  that  had  not  spilled, 

As  from  tree  to  tree  we  together  ran, 
To  the  long  canoe,  until  it  was  filled. 

Then  the  fires  were  built,  and  the  kettles  hung, 
And  the  sugar  saved  for  the  coming  year; 

Through  the  watch  at  night,  we  together  sung, 
With  the  neighbor  girls  there  to  give  us  cheer. 

Soon  the  moon  arose,  shining  through  the  trees, 
Welcomed  to  the  feast;  in   the  camps  around, 

Odors  from  the  flowers,  passing  in  the  breeze, 
Where  the  snow  had  been  on  the  frozen  ground. 

In  the  modern  camps  yokes  are  never  seen; 

Sap  is  hauled  on  sleds, — kettles  are  not  known; 
But  the  olden  spots  of  my  youth  are  green, 

Though  in  Illinois  I  am  left  alone. 

Of  those  ancient  scenes  thousands  living  know, 
Thousands  are  at  rest,  thousands  soon  will  be, 

Where  the  winter's  blast  over  them  will  blow, 
And  with  all  the  rest  kindly  think  of  me. 


V 


I  pause  beside  the  winding  stream, 
A  flower  is  borne  away. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  33 


A  WALK. 

From  busy  scenes  of  life  I  stray, 

To  remote  and  quiet  shade ; 
Beneath  the  lofty  oaks,  my  way, 

That  the  little  acorns  made. 

Unwritten  poems  here  I  meet, 

The  growth  of  many  a  year ; 
Flowers  are  growing  at  my  feet, 

That  I  pluck  and  shed  a  tear. 

I  pause  beside  the  winding  stream, 

A  flower  is  borne  away  ; 
And  the  lily  bows,  as  in  a  dream, 

As  it  bids  the  sun  good  day. 

Immortal  themes,  I  cannot  write, 

That  the  soul  alone  can  reach, 
Come  crowding  on  my  mental  sight, 

That  below  is  not  in  speech. 

Yearnings,  like  those  who  grief  have  known 
AYhen  shadows  have  passed  away, 

Meditations  maturer  grown 

AYhen  the  mists  have  cleared  away. 


34  "KANDOM  SHOTS." 

The  myriad  stars  through  leafy  trees 
Looked  down,  and  caught  my  sight; 

And  sweet  perfumes  were  in  the  breeze, 
Through  that  lovely  July  night. 

Far  in  the  east  a  friend  arose — 
The  moon,  with  a  smiling  face, 

Reflected  on  the  brook,  and  'rose 
'Til  he  found  my  hiding  place. 

A  voice  I  heard,  it  was  my  own ; 

"  Kind  friend,"  to  the  moon  I  said, 
"What  scenes  by  thee  on  earth  are  known, 

Of  the  living  and  the  dead." 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  35 


AN    INDIAN    DREAMED. 

Where  wooden  sticks  and  drums  did  play, 
When  the  fifes  were  loud  and  shrill; 

It  was  on  "general  muster  day," 
Down  the  valley;  up  the  hill. 

It  happened  in  an  Eastern   state, 
Where  years  before  was  fighting; 

A  circumstance  of  ancient  date, 
Tradition  put  in  writing. 

An  Indian  chief  beheld  the  sight, 
The  eagle  high  was  soaring; 

Strange  scenes;  his  brain  expressed  delight- 
Artillery  was  roaring. 

Night  came,  and  quiet  reigned  supreme, 
Through  camp  the  moonlight  glistened; 

The  chieftain  in  a  wondrous  dream 
In  wigwam  eager  listened. 

He  heard  a  tramp,  a  white  man  spoke: 
The  choice  of  all  is  yours;  he  went; 

He  saw  the  steed,  before  he  woke, 
The  general  to  him  had  sent. 


36  ''RANDOM  SHOTS." 

The  chief  arose,   believed  it  true, 
To  the  general  quickly  went; 

His  dream  explained  of  grand  review, 
And  the  horse  to  him  was  sent. 

The  general  dreamed  a  mighty  dream, 
But  he  dreamed  it  through  the  day; 

One  half  a  reservation  theme, 
For  the  horse  he  gave  away. 

The  artificial  lie,  you  see, 
Like  the  present  thefts  was  paid  ; 

"White  man  you  dream  too  hard  for  me," 
The  reply  the  Indian  made. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  37 


THE  SWITZERS. 

A   TRUE   STOKY. 

In  a  valley  up  a  mountain, 

Not  many  years  ago, 
Lived  a  widow  near  a  fountain, 

Between  the  peaks  of  snow. 

Three  sons  were  left  as  recollections 
Of  one  beyond  the  skies; — 

Remnants  of  her  first  affections, 
Bequeathed  from  earthly  ties. 

A  hunter  was  the  eldest  child, 
His  face  was  smooth  and  fair ; 

He  killed  the  nimble  chamois  wild, 
High  in  the  Alpine  air. 

The  younger  boys  did  baskets  make, 
Through  the  winter  weather ; 

In  summer  time  did  berries  take 
Down  the  mount  together. 

In  eighteen  hundred  and  seventy -four 
The  snow  fell  high  and  high  IT: 

Their  winter  store  it  was  no  more, 
The  fuel  scarce  for  fire. 


38  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

Starvation  seemed  their  last  relief. 

The  stronger  two  were  brave; 
They  left  their  mother  in  her  grief, 

The  weaker  ones  to  save. 

The  light  came  stealing  where  the  smoke 
Ascended  through  the  day; 

The  stars  shone  down  when  they  awoke 
To  start  upon  their  way. 

They  fastened  snow-hoops  on  their  feet ; 

Hans  Graffle's  hut  their  aim; 
The  winter  blast  they  dared  to  meet, 

For  sake  of  love  and  game. 

A  hearty  welcome  they  received, 
Down  through  his  roof  they  went; 

Their  wants  relieved,  were  not  deceived, 
Soon  loaded  home  were  sent. 

Alas!     Vibration  in  the  air 

Their  joyous  cheers  had  stirred; 

An  avalanche  above  the  pair, 
A  rumbling  sound  was  heard. 

Hans  comprehended,  bitter  cup! 

That  they  were  down  below ; 
The  waiting  angels  bore  them  up 

Through  fifty  feet  of  snow. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  39 

Instant  relief!     Hans  climbed  the  steep, 

The  mother  she  was  dead ; 
The  younger  child  was  sleeping  sweet, 

Wrapped  snugly  in  his  bed. 

His  little  heart  did  nearly  break, 

He  told  a  wondrous  dream — 
When  half  asleep  and  half  awake, 

Loved  angels  he  had  seen. 


A  CYCLONE. 

A  L.VY  OF  THE  TELEPHONE  WHEN  THE  WIRES  ARE  MIXED. 

Will  Bloornington  friends  take  warning, 
And  be  careful  what  they  say  ; 

I  heard  a  cyclone  this  morning 
In  a  most  peculiar  way. 

The  telephone  bell  was  ringing 

At  LeRoy  an  hour  or  so, 
And  between  the  acts  was  singing, 

But  by  whom  I  do  not  know. 

The  wires  had  been  on  a  frolic, 
By  crossing  each  other's  way  ; 

And  at  Espey'sit  was  colic, 

And  the  Blootnington  Mill  to  pay.  . 


40  "BANDOM  SHOTS. 'r 

Hungarian  "Boss"  came  stealing,. 

The  mill  is  going  to  repair  ; 
And  at  Krum's  a  joyous  feeling 

Was  vibrating  in  the  air. 

Hob  Fell  was  surely  in  the  game  ; 

He  cried  out  for  miles  away 
That  butter  and  eggs  are  still  the  same. 

And  "I  have  enough  to-day." 

I  called  for  Evans  Brothers, 

Thought  all  Bloomington  was  high, 

As  I  heard  from  many  others, 
But  their  faces  could  not  spy. 

I  have  heard  the  geese,  in  weather 
When  the  clouds  rode  on  the  blast,. 

The  confusion  altogether 

Will  compare  with  what  is  past. 

I  surely  was  stampeded, 
As  I  fled  the  fearful  sound  ; 

And  shall  write  for  what  is  needed, 
Or  go  up  and  look  around. 


'RANDOM    SHOTS."  41 


PERPETUAL  WORKS. 

'Sixty-eight  thousand  miles  each  hour,  through  space 

The  earth  is  moving  in  its  yearly  round  ; 

Twenty-five  thousand  miles  each  day,  with  night, 

Producing  years,  centuries,  and  ages. 

•Springs,  Summers,  Autumns,  Winters, 

Births,  deaths,  sunshine,  darkness,  joy,  and  sorrow, 

Matter  animate  and  inanimate, 

In  the  train  ever  changing,  are  the  same, 

Except  the  spirits  as  they  come  and  go. 

Spring  approaches;  the  days  lengthen  out, 

When  far  in  the  south  the  days  are  shortened. 

In  the  Arctics'  perpetual  fields  of  ice, 

And  in  the  Torrid  zone's  continual  heat, 

•Climbing  up  the  mount,  from  steady  weather, 

All  seeds,  shrubs,  plants,  and  flowers  do  mature. 

'Continual  sunshine  and  brilliant  night, 

On  verdant  valleys,  through  mighty  forests, 

Clouded  here  and  there  as  the  ocean  grand, 

The  lakes,  rivers,  brooklets,  and  even  tears 

Mingle  together  in  the  moving  clouds  ; 

With  the  impure  air  absorbed  by  lightning, 

A>  the  pure  rain  drops  fall  from  the  sound 

•Of  roaring  nature,  to  glad  hearts  below. 


42  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

Nature's  laws  a  perpetual  mystery. 

Humanity  now  is  merely  a  remnant 

Of  what  has  been  ;  go  to  the  Mother  Earth, 

Where  sightless  eyes  with  frames  returned  to  dust. 

Mingle,  with  forests,  cities  long  destroyed, 

The  fiercest  beasts,  the  mildest  creatures  known. 

Innocent  children,  with  wrecks  of  manhood. 

The  vilest  sinner  with  the  just. 

The  burning  mountain  threw  its  vivid  light 

On  terror-stricken  souls  in  vales  below, 

Buried  their  cities  in  burning  lava, 

Kissing  the  ocean  waves  from  foreign  shores, 

Quickly  rising  in  vapor  toward  the  sky, 

Fanned  by  northern  winds  to  tropical  climes, 

.Raising  up  forests  where  man  never  trod, 

Where  fragrant  flowers  perpetual  grow, 

Vast  wilds  where  beasts  and  birds  are  almost  tame. 


RANDOM    SHOTS."  48 


ALPHABET  RHYMES. 

A  wonderful  treasure. 
By  letters  in  measure. 
Contained  in  these  columns. 
Demanded  for  volumes. 
Enlarged  or  receded. 
For  writing  as  needed. 
Great  issues  expounding. 
High  intellects  sounding. 
Ink  often  is  fickle. 
Jay  Gould's  mighty  sickle. 
Keeping  mum  at  wholesale. 
Linking  chains  at  retail. 
Mankind  is  maturing. 
Negations  enduring. 
On  land  and  on  ocean. 
Preparing  commotion. 
Quick  sighted  endeavors. 
Revolving  the  levers. 
Strange  mysteries  pendiug. 
To  thinkers  unending. 
Un weary  adorers. 
Vain  seeking  explorers. 
With  courage  untiring. 


44  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

Xerxes  admiring. 

Years  spent  for  the  goals. 

Zones  frozen  at  poles. 


FORTY-EIGHT  HOURS  IN   1881 

FROM  BLOOMINGTON,  ILL..  TO   MOBILE,  ALA. 

The  girls  and  boys  were  out  sleighing 
On  the  night  of  which  I  write ; 

And  their  prancing  steeds  were  neighing, 
And  the  owners'  hearts  were  light. 

And  I  heard  their  joyous  singing, 

Passing  near  the  hotel  door, 
Mingled  with  the  sleighbells  ringing, 

And  I  thought  of  days  of  yore. 

On  my  couch  I  tried  to  slumber, 
But  my  thoughts  were  like  a  scroll; 

Like  the  ocean  waves  to  number, 
Or  the  pulse  that  holds  the  soul. 

At  an  early  hour  of  waking 
Took  a  train,  was  going  south, 

Where  the  darkies  love  are  making — 
Near  tho  Mississippi's  month. 


'•RANDOM    SHOTS."  45 

The  roaring  river  soon  was  crossed— 

At  St.  Louis  changing  train  — 
Near  Iron  Mountain  we  were  lost 

In  a  night  of  sleet  and  rain. 

Out  of  the  storm  we  were  lucky, 

To  a  land  between  extremes; 
At  Columbus,  in  Kentucky, — 

And  we  passed  to  better  scenes. 

In  Tennessee  the  blue  birds  cheered, 

In  the  swamps  the  game  was  swimming; 

The  summer  heat  we  hourly  neared, 
And  spring  work  was  beginning. 

Near  broad  plantations  busy  bees 

On  beech  trees  were  caressing; 
And  various  birds  were  in  the  breeze, 

Their  joyous  notes  expressing. 

And  numerous  negroes,  at  their  ease, 

Were  singing  songs  together, 
To  foreign  airs,  our  ears  to  please, 

In  Mississippi  weather. 

On  Central  Mississippi  farms 

Were  cotton  pickers  working; 
And  others  dressed  with  glittering  charms, 

More  happy  were  in  sli irking. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS. 

The  harness  used  upon  the  farms — 
Chain  traces  and  shuck  collars- 
Rope  lines  were  strung  across  their  arms — • 
The  outfit  worth  six  dollars. 

The  modest  mules  did  watch  us  pass, 
Their  master's  shield,  in  toiling; 

Near  Corinth  sheep  were  mowing  grass, — 
The  hogs  a  vale  subsoiling. 

Two  days  had  passed ;  on  Mobile  bay 
The  oyster  shells  were  breaking; 

The  ocean  steamer,  on  its  way, 
For  foreign  countries  making. 

Upon  the  banks  I  thought  of  sounds 

When  cruel  war  was  stealing; 
Through  blinding  tears  I  saw  the  mounds, 

For  others  woe  was  feeling. 


RANDOM    SHOTS.''  4:1 


MOTION. 

The  planets  roll  unending  space, 
Belong  to  God's  own  pleasure; 

The  growth  and  life  of  Adam's  race 
We  vainly  try  to  measure. 

By  currents  strong  the  ocean  tides 
Are  ever  changing  on  the  coast; 

Like  human  thoughts,  in  lofty  strides, 
Return  to  levels,  though  they  boast. 

The  iron  steed,  controlled  by  brains, 
High  011  the  mount  is  on  its  way; 

Low  in  the  valley  other  trains 
Are  waiting,  as  the  break  of  daj7. 

Where  Southern  birds  are  building  nests, 
In  fields  where  grain  is  growing ; 

The  winter  blast  is  seeking  rest, 
From  Northern  ice  is  blowing. 


48  "RANDOM  SHOTS/ 


FAULT-FINDING. 

The  world,  some  say,  is  going  back,— 
Perhaps  they're  honest  in  their  views,— 

It  may  be  wisdom  that  they  lack, 

And  slow  have  been  to  read  the  news. 

Complain  they  do;  complain  they  must, 
Obscure  from  view  of  those  more  kind; 

Have  selfish  grown,  and  none  can  trust, 

Their  narrow  thoughts  have  made  them  blind. 

The  iron  rule  of  long  ago 

Made  independent  people  mean ; 
To  bless  the  multitudes  below 

More  charity  to-day  is  seen. 

Within  my  breast  the  ebb  and  flow 

Of  mortal  life  is  beating  time; 
To  better  scenes  than  here  below, 

To  spheres  for  making  better  rhyme. 


FACTS. 

To  think  each  second  two  bodies  are  dead — 
The  immortal  parts  as  quickly  have  fled— 

Or  in  one  hour,  from  a  world  of  strife, 
Seventy-two  hundred  have  passed  this  life. 


RANDOM    SHOTS."  4:9 


GROWTH. 

God  spoke,  the  earth  revolved  in  space, 
All  living  creatures  made  full-grown ; 

But  man  alone,  first  of  the  race, 
In  Eden  learned  he  was  alone. 

Then  growth  began  from  Adam's  side, 

A  rib  was  taken,  and  its  growth 
A  woman  formed,  a  living  bride, 

And  walking  miracles  were  both. 

A  growth  of  sin  on  earth  began, 
And  jealous  Cain  took  Abel's  life; 

All  down  the  centuries  it  ran 

To  the  present  time,  through  tears  and  strife. 

And  righteousness  spread  out  to  grow 

Like  arrows,  from  a  quiver  bent; 
From  genius  souls  we  do  not  know, 

Immortal  sparks  that  heaven  sent. 

The  growth  of  knowledge  is  sublime. 

From  nature  and  experience  old. 
Its  age  is  not  confined  to  time — 

Eternity  will  it  unfold. 


"KANDOM  SHOTS. 

The  growth  of  shrubs,  with  sweet  perfume. 
That  florists  guard  with  tender  care; 

Or  notes  in  music  made  to  tune 
To  midnight  dream  of  maiden  fair. 

Where  freedom  grew  were  mighty  groans,— 
The  brave  there  died  where  vultures  dwell,- 

Their  monuments  are  bleaching  bones, 
And  hooting  owls  their  funeral  knell. 


CALCULATIONS. 

Span  the  earth  around  with  a  telegraph, 
Date  the  message  sent  on  its  journey  round; 

Wait  minutes  five,  seconds  twelve  and  one-half. 
And  the  message  take  as  you  catcli  the  sound. 


'RANDOM    SHOTS."  51 


IMITATIONS. 

A  boy  came  walking  up  the  street, 
He  had  such  wondrous  ways; 

A  model  girl  I  seemed  to  meet, 
I  oft  had  watched  his  plays. 

A  question  flashed  into  my  head, 
Why  he  so  strange  appeared ; 

A  ready  answer,  silent  said, 
By  sisters  he  was  reared. 

I  passed  along,  a  girl  I  met, 

Her  age  was  only  ten; 
She  Deemed  to,  be  all  in  a  fret — 

Appeared  like  many  men. 

Her  education,  from  a  child, 
Had  only  been  with  boys; 

The  mystery  why  girls  are  wild, 
And  make  such  awful  noise. 

Two  neighbor  girls,  together  raised, 
Are  oft  the  talk  in  town; 

The  handsome  one  is  often  praised, 
The  homely  scarce  a  noun. 


52  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

Her  ugly  face  the  frowning  lad 
Passed  by  with  scarce  a  glance; 

To  her  companion,  seeming  glad, 
If  he  could  get  a  chance. 

The  prettiest  face  in  all  the  place, 
The  homely  creature  made ; 

And  in  reply,  a  homely  face. 
The  pretty  maid  had  paid. 

A  jolly  artist  thought  it  wise 
To  sketch  what  he  had  seen ; 

With  valentines  did  both  surprise, 
And  proved  that  both  were  green. 


UNIVERSITY  OF 


VHTTTW 


"KANDOM  SHOTS."  53 


YOUTH. 

Between  the  lofty  hills  near  Buffalo, 

Is  soil  I  first  beheld  that  gave  me  birth ; 
A  land  where  speckled  trout  in  brooklets  grow, 

The  brightest  spot  to  me  upon  the  earth. 

'Twas  in  the  early  spring,  the  hemlocks  grew, 
Far  up  the  hill  were  the  beech  trees  shade, 

'Tvvas  there  the  pigeons  came;  they  truly  knew 
The  woods  to  rear  their  young;  there  the  eggs  were  laid. 

And  the  mill  below  purest  flour  made, 

And  the  living  wind  mingled  in  the  sound. 

And  the  shouting  boys  in  the  mill  race  played, 
.Near  the  water-wheel  slowly  rolling  round. 

'Twas  there  I  drove  the  cattle  by  the  week, 
Two  cents  each  day  as  recompense  was  paid ; 

Through  summer  time  barefooted  were  my  feet, 
The  scars  remain  the  cruel  stone-bruise  made. 

An  orchard  owned  by  Deacon  Clark, 

His  melon  patch  the  neighbors  thought  the  best; 

The  better  ones  were  found,  the  night  was  dark, 
May  Clark  forgive,  we  did  not  break  his  rest. 


54  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

Through  six  long  months  the  school-house  fires  were  made, 
For  Guiteau's  lawyer,  known  as  Charles  H.  Reed  ; 

Three  dollars  for  my  winter  work  he  paid — 
The  ashes  went  for  pins ;  I  was  in  need. 

Far  up  the  hill  a  group  of  children  went 

With  hand-sleds  painted  blue,  and  white,  and  red  ; 

Returning  like  a  cyclone  had  been  sent, 

Before  the  saints  in  town  their  prayers  had  said. 

And  down  below,  upon  the  ice  at  night, 

Were  rosy  lips  and  faces  smooth  as  glass, 
And  their  eyes  were  clear  as  the  stars  were  bright, 

And  I  loved  them  all  as  I  saw  them  pass, 


CHRISTMAS  CHEER. 


RANDOM    SHOTS."  55 


CHRISTMAS  CHEER. 

The  roses  red,  the  grasses  green, 
Are  growing  south,  to-day  are  seen  ; 

The  birds  of  flight,  that  give  us  cheer, 
To  other  souls  are  just  as  dear. 

The  Esquimaux  in  fur  is  dressed, 

In  hut  of  ice  enjoys  his  rest ; 
The  winter  blast  through  forests  fly 

And  here  old  nature's  pipe  is  high. 

The  winter  wind  is  drifting  snow, 
Indoors  are  stockings  in  a  row  ; 

The  ember  glow,  the  children  shout, 
Old  Santa  Glaus  is  surely  out. 

Twenty-four  hours  of  Christmas  mom, 

Another  day  on  earth  is  born  ; 
Twenty-four  hours  of  Christmas  night, 

The  "Shepherd's  Star"  reflects  its  light. 


56  "RANDOM  SHOTS.' 


A  THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 

Long  years  ago,  down  East,  transpired, 

A  circumstance  I  now  relate  ; 
My  father  had  a  stage-coach  hired, 

To  navigate  across  the  State. 

The  rain  had  poured  for  many  an  hour, 
On  Pennsylvania's  crooked  face ; 

At  noon  they  met  a  lively  shower, 
The  frail  old  bridge  had  left  its  place. 

Far  up  the  bank  a  bridge  was  found, 
Four  feet  of  water  o'er  it  went ; 

The  driver  brave,  his  whip  did  sound, 
And  horses  four  were  on  it  sent. 

Five  years  before,  I  came  to  earth, 
The  whip  on  the  bridge  did  sound  ; 

I  think  a  circumstance  of  worth 

For  me,  perhaps,  had  father  drowned. 

When  half  across,  to  their  surprise, 
The  bridge  was  gone,  for  many  feet ; 

Their  thoughts  were  called  beyond  the  skies, 
Expecting  soon  their  God  to  meet. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  57 

For  half  a  mile  the  horses  swam 

To  a  curve  the  river  made  ; 
The  leaders'  hoofs  struck  on  the  land, 

"When  their  anxious  prayers  were  paid. 

The  driver's  courage  then  was  known, 

When  for  thanks,  he  curses  gave  ; 
He  greater  wisdom  would  have  shown 

Giving  thanks  that  he  was  saved. 


A  MIDNIGHT  SCENE. 

The  dearest  poem  I  have  ever  known 
Came  to  my  vision  the  other  night — 

It  was  from  a  friend,  when  I  was  alone, 
Its  cheerful  bearings  I  will  try  to  write. 

The  inspiration  of  a  midnight  dream 
In  golden  letters  was  before  my  eyes ; 

Though  the  night  was  dark,  light  was  in  the  scene, 
And  the  more  I  read,  greater  my  surprise. 

"  Do  you  remember,"  as  the  poem  read, 
"  Of  a  blue-eyed  child  that  the  angels  took 

To  better  mansions,  that  you  thought  was  dead, 
And  the  words  I  send,  for  your  little  book." 


58  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

For  a  while  the  golden  thread  is  broken, 
Though  on  earth  you  know  I  could  not  write ; 

But  I  send  you  this  as  heaven's  token, 
Of  unending  love  in  a  "Land  of  Light." 

Though  on  earth  I  only  was  a  child, 

And  for  many  friends  drove  away  the  gloom, 

In  their  loving  arms,  where  I  often  smiled, 
I  am  older  now  than  my  little  tomb. 

Truly  I  will  stand  near  the  "  Great  White  Throne," 
Where  there  is  "no  night"  patiently  will  wait, 

For  my  many  friends  who  have  older  grown, 
I  shall  recognize  at  the  "Golden  Gate." 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  59 


UNCLE    JOHN. 

Of  Uncle  John  I  wish  to  write, 
Who  once  was  old,  but  now  is  young; 

His  children  raised  to  do  the  right, 
Is  my  epistle  just  begun. 

His  black-eyed  wife  was  sweet  eighteen, 
Experience  her  school  of  life  ; 

And  from  their  history  is  seen 
Effects  of  honest  man  and  wife. 

In  youth,  his  house  of  logs  was  made, 
A  tire-place  built  for  winter's  storm  ; 

And  falling  trees  was  part  his  trade, 
The  oxen  drew,  to  keep  them  warm. 

Kind  heaven  blessed  their  little  home, 
In  forty  years  great  changes  came ; 

A  dozen  children,  then,  were  grown, 
And  each  one  had  a  Bible  name. 

The  neighbors  often  wondered  why 

Such  goodness  and  such  patience  shown; 

And  when  a  neighbor  chanced  to  die, 
The  kindness  of  his  home  was  known. 


60  "KANDOM  SHOTS." 

A  latch,  with  string,  was  at  his  door, 
For  prison  life  was  there  unknown ; 

And  always  room  for  one  or  more, 
The  way  the  family  was  grown. 

But  trouble  came;  the  honest  sire 
Had  feeble  grown ;  his  locks  were  white ; 

His  rosy  cheeks  had  lost  their  fire, 

And  dim  the  eyes,  that  once  were  bright. 

He  slowly  spoke:  "I  am  alone, 
Although  in  age  my  heart  is  light, 

In  wisdom,  truly,  I  have  grown, 

Though  friends  of  youth  have  passed  from  sight. 

He  often  trembled  when  he  walked, 

And  much  relied  upon  his  cane ; 
And  cheered  his  children  when  he  talked, 

"Just  think,  beyond,  I'm  young  again." 

"My  'specks'  and  staff  I  leave  below, 

In  vain  you'll  try  to  see  my  face; 
You  older,  probably,  will  grow, 

And  need  .them  on  the  old  home  place." 

That  night  the  messenger  was  sent 

To  relieve  the  old  man's  pain ; 
He  did  not  die,  but  only  went 

An  eternal  youth  to  gain. 


555* , 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  61 


Upon  bis  farm,  high  on  a  mound, 
A  thousand  monuments  are  seen ; 

Where  in  his  youth  his  axe  did  sound, 
But  now  above  him  grass  is  green. 


THE    LIGHTHOUSE, 

A  silent  friend's  electric  eye, 
To  a  light-house  for  the  world; 

High  on  a  rock  where  eagles  fly, 
With  the  stars  and  stripes  unfurled. 

A  sailor  stood  one  stormy  night, 

At  the  pilot  wheel  in  fear; 
For  ou  the  cliff  he  saw  the  light 

That  to  him  was   very  dear. 

For  twelve  long  hours,  a  thousand  hearts 
On  the  ship  had  been  distressed, 

At  the  thunder's  roar  and  lightning  darts, 
That  pierced  the  ocean's  breast. 

Full  forty  feet  the  waves  piled  up, 
And  it  seemed  the  ship  did  fly; 

Returning  down  into  the  cup, 
And  it  seemed  they  all  must  die. 


62  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

The  miser  sat  with  checks  for  gold, 
Stowed  away  at  his  command  ; 

The  fighting  man  was  not  as  bold 
As  a  coward  on  the  land. 

The  gambler  ceased  his  game  that  night, 
And  the  drunkard  cried  for  ale  ; 

A  maiden  nearly  died  from  fright, 
And  the  sailors  old  grew  pale. 

A  mother  fainted  down  below, 
And  the  captain  held  her  child; 

The  midnight  wind  did  stronger  blow, 
And  the  little  infant  smiled. 

"Great  God  is  here,"  the  captain  said, 
And  a  thousand  hearts  were  wild, 

That  just  before  were  almost  dead, 
And  they  kissed  the  smiling  child. 

The  clouds  rode  by,  the  stars  shone  down, 
And  the  ocean  waves  obeyed; 

A  thousand  souls  were  in  the  town, 
That  the  storm  had  long  delayed. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS." 


VARIETIES. 

Perpetual  day,  perpetual  birth, 
Perpetual  night  on  the  face  of  the  earth; 

Perpetual  waking  as  well  as  sleep, 
Not  only  on  land  but  upon  the  deep. 

Volcanic  action  in  the  earth  is  pent, 

From  the  mountain  peak  does  its  fury  vent; 

Like  a  giant  strong,  in  sleep  like  a  child, 
When  active  and  roused  his  strength  is  wild. 

On  memories  wall,  from  those  that  are  dead, 
Achievements  we  gain  from  kind  words  they  said; 

Or  leaving  their  names  in  histories  old, 

Bear  stronger  on  earth  than  vaults  filled  with  gold. 

'Tis  pleasure  to  know,  on  a  starlight  night, 
Our  friends  far  away  behold  the  same  sight; 

That  shepherds  beheld  from  Bethlehem's  height, 
That  millions  since  born  have  viewed  with  delight. 

The  water  we  drink,  bounding  through  each  heart, 
In  the  midnight  storrn  soon  will  take  a  part; 

And  the  water  now,  in  the  fish  and  eel, 
At  some  future  time  in  our  pulse  can  feel. 


64  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

Of  all  the  colors  of  races  on  earth, 

The  laws  of  nature  produce  them  from  birth; 

While  all  the  languages,  all  the  world  'round, 

Produce  the   same   thoughts,  but  not  the  same  sound. 

Beneath  the  keyboards  of  instruments  grand 

Is  silent  music,  unknown  in  this  land ; 
But  active  thinking  will  be  heard  at  last, 

From  the  master  minds,  as  in  days  of  past. 

Emblems  of  purity,  snowflakes  falling, 

The  children  young  to  their  windows  calling ; 

In  tropical  climes,  up  mountains  steep, 
The  beautiful  flowers  and  snowflakes  meet. 

As  birds  from  the  south  return  with  new  song, 
The  millions  of  earth  should  journey  along ; 

To  join  in  chorus  all  souls  to  surprise, 
As  from  the  planet  all  nations   arise. 

To  music  sweeter  than  all  worlds  combined, 

Where  the  deaf  can  hear,  and  where  none  are  blind  ; 

Where  races  and  sex  can  never  be  known, 

Where  the  old  are  young,  and  the   young  are    grown. 


; RANDOM   SHOTS."  65 


EDUCATION. 

Two  children*,  I  remember, 
Their  pedigree  the  same; 

The  eldest  in  December 
Received  his  given  name. 

And  Mary,  two  years  later, 
Appeared  upon  the  earth; 

She  proved  to  be  the  greater, 
Substantial  from  her  birth. 

Their  parents  oft  reflected 
O'er  paths  the  children  went; 

And  neither  one  neglected 
The  task  that  Heaven  sent. 

The  father  told  the  mother 
Of  battles  he  had  fought, 

From  school-days  to  a  lover, — 
The  loss  and  gain  they  brought. 

His  choice  for  life,  a  blessing, 
Her  modest  ways  and  looks; 

A  monument  in  dressing, 
To  ornament  his  books. 


"EANDOM  SHOTS." 

"Now  ornament  the  children, 
As  you  have  polished  me, 
And  you  will  be  a  pilgrim, 
That  older  ones  will  see. 

"For  children  in  the  cradles 

In  time  will  take  our  place; 
And  gold,  as  well  as  ladles, 
Will  ornament  the  race." 

With  courage  of  a  lion, 

As  harmless  as  a  dove, 
She  traveled  on  to  Zion, 

Their  home  was  filled  with  love. 

For  years  a  home  of  pleasure, 

At  last  a  cloud  arose, 
'Twas  on  a  day  of  leisure, 

A  thorn  to  kill  a  rose. 

A  naughty  little  fellow, 
Whose  mother  early  died, 

Was  educated  mellow, 
Had  to  her  William  lied. 

And  to  her  little  treasure 
A  yellow  book  he  gave, 

It  was  his  daily  pleasure 
To  educate  a  knave. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  67 

"Circumstantial  evidence," 

The  mother  calmly  said, 
"Will  not  gain  a  pound  or  pence, 

Or  feed  a  beggar  dead." 

Diamonds  placed  upon  a  crown, 

Oft  are  lost  in  using ; 
Paths  to  wealth  and  much  renown, 

Lost  by  heedless  choosing. 

In  the  prisons  can  be  found 

Rigid  faces,  blighted; 
That  their  education's  bound, 

Who  their  chances  slighted. 

Capable  in  younger  days, 

To  break  the  lion's  jaw; 
Tan  his  hide  and  mend  his  ways, 

And  make  him  gee  or  haw. 

Bill  and  Mary  now  are  grown, 
Integrity  and  truth; 

their  fame  is  widely  known, 
Pectded  from  their  youth. 


68  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 


OBSERVATIONS. 

In  observations  take  a  stroll, 
To  figure  out  our  daily  need; 

For  many  parts  are  in  a  whole, 

And  strange  are  ways  of  men,  indeed. 

The  little  fishes  in  the  deep, 

Are  soon  forgotten  in  their  home ; 

When  resting  on  their  oars  in  sleep, 
Are  swallowed  by  the  larger  grown. 

Self-interest  is  a  righteous  law, 
How  far  from  truth  so  many  swerve ; 

In  others  good,  they  pick  a  flaw, 
In  trade  or  politics,  observe. 

"A  thief  to  catch  a  thief,"  'tis  said, 
Tradition  handed  down  to  us; 

For  years  the  speaker  has  been  dead, 
But  does  the  saying  make  it  just? 

Proclaiming  long  in  lofty  strains, 

That  "none  are  honest  on  the  earth;" 

A  sorry  time  for  men  of  brains, 
Responsible  for  greater  worth. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  69 

Because  another  person  steals, 

And  scienced  is  in  telling  lies; 
Is  that  a  proof  he  better  feels 

That  honest  men  he  should  despise? 

Adulterations  bring  to  grief 

The  honest  men  o'er  all  the  land; 
By  filling  pockets  of  the  thief, 

That  few  do  fully  understand. 

To  boldly  step  upon  the  round 

Of  any  ladder,  solid  made, 
And  worry  not  about  the  ground, 

But  prop  it  toward  the  upper  grade. 

Shoemakers  watch  the  passing  feet, 
The  merchant  buys  to  please  his  trade; 

The  debtors  pass  across  the  street, 
Because  the  old  bills  are  not  paid. 

The  sharper  watches  for  a  trade, 

Upon  the  track  misfortune  went ; 
And  where  the  doctor  visits  paid, 

The  undertaker's  thoughts  were  bent. 

In  board  of  trade  how  many  swear, 
Because  they  lost  all  their  wealth ; 

In  age  are  left  in  deep  despair, 

From  loss  of  earnings,  in  their  health. 


70  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

A  tombstone  man  I  met  to-day, 
Inquiring  of  the  rich  that  died; 

And  of  my  health  he  much  did  say, 
I  think  he  thought  I  soon  would  ride. 

I  had  a  notion  then  and  there, 
To  call  for  samples  in  his  books; 

And  save  a  contract,  and  a  prayer, 
His  sympathy  and  purchased"  looks; 

I've  watched  my  school  mate's'  ail  alolig; 

And  those  I  love  more  than  tnV*Hst ; 

•  .1  ' 

Have  cheerful  been,  and  full  of  song, 
And  always  tried  to  do  their  best. 

You  might  as  well  attempt  to  hold, 
The  ocean  current  in  your  hand ; 

As  try  to  prison  up  the  soul, 
Of  any  independent  man. 

The  women,  as  a  rule,  are  kind, — 
That  is,  as  far  as  I  have  heard, — 

Although  they  talk  their  husbands  blind, 
Yictorious,  by  the  last  word. 

I  oft  have  thought  that  those  succeed 
Who  have  the  grit  to  hold  their  own; 

And  if  to  fight  there  is  a  need, 
The  muscles  used  are  stronger  grown. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  71 

The  foolish  man  to  the  lobby  hires ; 

The  solid  man  his  actions  spurn  ; 
The  barking  dog  does  sooner  tire; 

The  seasoned  wood  does  quicker  burn. 

Each  man,  'tis  .said,  "he  has  his  price, '* 
Pray  tell  me  how  such  knowledge  known? 

Such  persons  are"  too  over-nice, 

Their  better  light  has  dimmer  grown. 

Locality  has  much  to  mould, 

With  thoughts  and  actions  here  below, 

For  murderers  have  often  told 

That  crimes,  like  goodness,  had  to  grow. 

We  make  decisions  often  blind, 
One-half  the  proof  was  only  heard  ; 

Is  that  the  plan,  the  Master  kind, 
Decisions  made,  from  out  his  word? 

The  fleetest  horse  upon  the  track, 

Is  often  beaten  in  the  race, 
His  driver  did  the  wisdom  lack, 

And  science  took  the  winning  place. 

Of  education  we  must  write 

If  politics  decide  our  fate ; 
The  independent  vote  is  right 

Of  all  the  votes,  small  or  great. 


72  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

To  force  the  scholars  in  our  schools 
In  politics  to  please  our  mind, 

Is  proof  the  parents  all  are  fools— 
Our  constitution  is  unkind. 

If  reformations  only  thrive, 
As  multitudes  are  wiser  grown, 

And  politics  are  kept  alive 

By  seed  unto  the  masses  sown, 

Then  let  us  quickly  understand, 

That  lofty  themes  should  be  our  aim, 

Upon  the  sea  or  on  the  land, 
And  peace  and  harmony  obtain. 

Indelible  should  be  our  ink. 

Decision  as  we  go  along ; 
If  benefits  we  cannot  think, 

Depend  upon  some  honest  song. 

But,  if  you  wish  to  test  a  friend, 
Be  broken  up  a  year  or  so  ; 

In  wealth  you  cannot  sure  depend, 
But  in  adversity  will  know. 

At  twenty  years  we  oft  are  wise, 
At  thirty,  just  beginning  to  learn, 

At  forty,  folly  does  surprise. 

At  death,  for  knowledge  mostly  yearn. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  73 


FRUITLESS    ATTEMPT  TO   ANALYZE 
SPACE. 

What  is  that  subtile  element,  that  we 
Call  magnetism,  yet  have  never  seen  or 
Heard?  and  so  far  as  we  can  tell,  pervades 
All  space?     Can  it  be  that  space  itself  is 
Held  together  by  its  bond  ?     Is  not  the 
Air  invisible  composed  of  parts  ?     And 
Are  they  not  material  ?     And  when  in 
Mass  sufficient  gathered,  by  some  force  not 
In  themselves,  successfully  attack  the 
Strongest  fabrics  man  has  built  upon  the  earth. 

Did  not  Newtonian  skill  unravel 

Light's  soft  skein,  when  any  man  before  would 

Just  as  soon  have  thought  that  space  was  made  of 

Parts  as  Light?     Can  anything  without  its 

Parts  exist,  of  which  the  whole  is  more  than  some  ? 

Is  not  eternity  itself  made 

Up  of  moments  that  will  never  cease  to 

Follow  each  ?     And  if  they  did,  then  where  would 

Be  eternity,  if  moments  there  were 

Not  enough  to  fill  it  out,  and  make  it  last? 


74  "RANDOM  SHOTS.'* 

And  if  extension  not,  then  space  would 

Die,  for  want  of  continuity  at 

Once.     But  now  it  lives,  and  certainly  must 

Have  a  soul — essential   being    of  some,'- kind*      And  ^ay 

Not  magnetism  be 

That  soul,  and  keep  the  universe  alive 

By  furnishing  it  space  in  which  to  be  ? 

Give  me  a  cup  to  hold  the  drops  that  make 

The  sea,  and  I  will  then  annihilate 

The  ocean  vast,  and  empty  out  her  trough. 

Infinites  crowd  on  us  here ;  but  this 

Mends  not  the  case:     No  chain  without  its  links. 

And  where  would  be  infinity,  if  parts  were  not  ? 

If  not  one  day  can  be  without 

Its  parts,  much  less  infinity ;  for  much 

Is  more  than  little.     It  matters  not  how 

Small  a  thing  may  be,  it's  still  a  part,  of 

Which  the  half  is  less  than  all.     Now  let's  stop. 


"RANDOM  SHOTS."  75 


THE    COMET'S    REPLY   TO  THE 
ATHEIST. 

IN   SEARCH  TOR  A  PLACE  WHERE  THERE  IS  NO  GOD. 

Beyond  the  glittering  worlds  of  light, 
For  ages  past,  I've  been  employed; 

And  in  my  vast  and  rapid  flight, 
Have  found  no  place  of  God  devoid. 

I've  soared  around  the  burning  sun, 
And  gazed  where  mortals  never  dare ; 

And  in  the  journey  I  have  run, 
Have  always  found  that  God  was  there. 

With  piercing  vision  I  have  gazed 
Among  the  scattered  worlds  afar, 

And  where  their  brilliant  splendors  blazed, 
Have  ever  found  that  God  was  there. 

I've  plowed  the  fields  of  liquid  space, 
And  scanned  the  ocean,  earth  and  air; 

But  never  found  the  smallest  place, 
But  what  Almighty  God  was  there. 


76  "RANDOM  SHOTS." 

Creation's  grandeur  I've  surveyed, 
And  seen  its  riches  stored  abroad, 

But  far  beyond  where  thought  has  strayed, 
The  ample  space  was  filled  with  God. 

In  all  that  vast  unmeasured  round, 

Through  which  my  piercing  view  I  dart, 

No  place  without  a  God  I've  found, 
Except  the  atheist's  wretched  heart. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 

811H886R  C001 

RANDOM  SHOTS  BLOOMINGTON 


30112025322634 


